“I was trying to fix it.”
“It smells delicious.” He picks me up and sets me on the counter next to the birthday cake. “I want a taste.”
“Dinner hasn’t even arrived yet.”
“That’s okay. It’s my birthday, and I want to eat you first.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, frustrated to tears that my plans flopped. Literally. “I can’t even get the cake right.”
“It looks edible to me.” He presses his lips to mine, shutting me up for the moment.
But I still can’t let it go. “I wanted to make this night special for you.”
“Novalee.” The frame of his hands keeps me captive. “You’re here, which makes it perfect.” A sly grin darts across his mouth. “And that cake is plenty special.” Before I can defend myself, he scoops up some icing and smears it across my cheek.
I’m laughing when he kisses the sugary confection from my skin. “That isn’t what I had in mind when I made it.”
“Then our minds are on two different pages, because I want to lick this icing from every inch of your body.” His hand travels an inch up my thigh.
“What if I told you I’m not wearing any panties?”
“I’d say ‘thank you’ for the easy access.” He dips his fingers into the frosting again and slides those sugary digits up my slit. Pulling me to the edge of the counter, he lowers into a crouch. I lean back, balancing on my elbows, and settle my feet on his shoulders.
Our eyes lock between the splay of my thighs. My breath hitches, the adoration in his expression a threat to the air in my lungs. His head disappears under my dress, and his warm lips graze my inner thigh, light kisses traveling closer to my sex. I break out in a full body shudder as gooseflesh spreads over my skin. Instead of kissing me where I’m aching for him, he begins the slow seduction all over again on my other leg.
“Stop torturing me,” I breathe.
He laughs against my flesh, and then his tongue laps up the icing, dragging a moan from me. I definitely didn’t have this in mind when I put the ingredients for his cake into a mixing bowl, but I’m not complaining. He works me over for several minutes, licking me closer to climax. Right as I’m about to come, he pulls back.
“What else do I get for my birthday?”
I blink. “What?”
“After I’m done eating you, what else do I get?”
A night in his bed with his cock where it belongs? But I don’t dare voice the thought.
“Anything you want.”
“You mean that?” There’s a suspicious inflection in his tone.
I raise a brow, worried I made a mistake by promising him such a thing. I should have known better. “It’s your birthday,” I hedge.
The smile that transforms his mouth is downright devious. “I want you to hold back your orgasm.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as I want…which could be days.”
“That’s just cruel.”
His gaze settles on my breasts, rising and falling fast in the bodice of my dress. “I’m in a mood. You shouldn’t have made promises you didn’t intend to keep.”
“I’m taking issue with your crappy mood. I’ve served enough time on the sexual torture wagon in this tower.”
“Then you’ve had practice.” His head disappears between my thighs again, and this time, he doesn’t hold back.
Because he expects me to.
“Oh God, Sebastian.” My hand curls in his dark blond hair, fingers tugging. “You know I can’t hold back when you do that.”
“My birthday, princess. Not yours.” He growls against my pussy, the experts licks of his tongue stroking me just right.
“Then stop doing that with your tongue!”
He doesn’t stop, and I grip his head with both hands, desperate to come on that hot, wicked tongue. Teeth clenching, I grind on his face, even as my mind tells me to slow him down.
“Please!” I gasp, toes curling.
The doorbell rings, literally saving me by the bell. He gets to his feet and wipes the back of his hand across his scruffy face.
“Are we expecting company?”
“Dinner,” I say, breathless, as I arrange my dress over my thighs.
“Don’t move.” Glaring in the direction of the front door, he adjusts himself in his jeans. “I’ll be right back.”
Commotion filters in from the other room as Sebastian instructs the server to leave dinner in the dining room. A few minutes later, after the kitchen staff leave, he returns to where I’m waiting on the counter, hot and bothered between the legs.
As he saunters toward me, he unbuttons his fly. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while now.”
I press my thighs together, but the maneuver doesn’t subdue the wet need between them. If anything, the sight of him standing before me, an edge of dominance driving his movements as he fists the length of his cock, arouses me on an insane level.
“What do you want, Sebastian?”
He lifts me off the counter, pivots until his back faces it, and sets me on my feet. Before I find steadiness on solid ground again, he tugs my bodice below my breasts.
“Will you let me fuck your tits?”
His request affects me like a physical caress, and my nipples harden under his lustful gaze. “Can you show me how it’s done?”
Pushing me to my knees, he grins. “Lean toward me and smash your tits together.”
After everything we’ve experienced, I’m surprised shyness chooses this moment to descend, but there’s no denying the warmth on my cheeks. Bringing my hands to my breasts, I peek up at him. “Like this?”
“God, yes.” He tugs his lower lip between his teeth. “You’re a man’s muse for a wet dream.” Propping himself against the counter, he sheaths his cock between my cleavage, his knees bent to reach the right angle.
As he pumps, I’m no longer looking at his face—my attention fastens on the plump crown of his shaft pushing up between my breasts. I lick my lips, the move subconscious, and he scoops another dab of icing off the cake before smearing it on his cock. I drag my tongue across the slit before he utters a word of instruction.
We find a tandem rhythm, his thrusts bringing the sugary head of his erection between my lips, and when he comes, he does so with a loud, throaty groan, his release spurting all over the top of my breasts.
“Lick me clean,” he grunts, his voice dangerously sexy, rough with completion.
I obey with a glimmer of calculation in my eyes, running my tongue from base to tip. Even after reaching orgasm, he’s still aroused…and that’s an empowering discovery. I wait for him to make the next move, hoping he’ll renege on his promise to leave me in a heightened state of sexual purgatory.
My hopes plummet when he pulls up his pants.
“Thank you.” Gratitude softens his voice. He helps me stand, and his lips seek mine in a lingering kiss. “This has been the best birthday I’ve had in twenty-two years.”
“It’ll be even better if we take it to the bedroom.”
“I don’t think so. I see a shower in our future.” He shoots a pointed glance at the sticky mess he made of my breasts. “Besides, dinner’s getting cold.”